


Pool Party

by redscudery



Series: Scudery's Saturday Night Fic Fest [17]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Boys Kissing, Clothing Kink, Holmes Brothers, M/M, Poor Lestrade, Red Pants, Semi-Public Sex, Sherlock is a Brat, Sibling Rivalry, Swimming Pools, coconut oil, in lestrade's car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 10:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2226504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redscudery/pseuds/redscudery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the prompt "Pool party that is one, some, or all of: Awkward. Criminal. Work-Related. Necessary for Mycroft to attend. Ridiculously posh."</p><p>I chose "all of the above."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pool Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SweetLateJuliet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetLateJuliet/gifts).



> This kind of follows on from "A Twist Is Just A Kiss" and "Scatter Back", also dialogue-only fics, in which John and Sherlock have a great deal of fun, and Lestrade suffers, sort of.

**Saturday, July 18, 10 a.m.**

“He’ll never fall for it.”

“How sadly you underestimate me, John.”

“Who else would invite him to a ...pool party?”

“Exactly. That is the genius part. Do keep up.”

“Does he even own bathing trunks?”

“Mycroft has impeccable attire for every situation.”

“I can’t imagine him in bathing trunks.”

“Don’t start.”

“Jealous?”

“I am the good-looking one.”

“Sherlock, that is my foot.”

“I’m aware. Do you know that feet are very sensitive?”

“Don’t try to sidetrack me into another discussion about neural receptors.”

“Pfft. Just because Lestrade caught us.”

“We were in his car.”

“And that coconut oil came right out of the seat. He had no reason to be so angry about such a trifling stain.”

“Get off my foot, Sherlock.”

“If you insist. Besides, we’re going to do something nice for Lestrade.”

“I shudder to think what your definition of ‘nice’ is…”

“The last time I did something nice for you you ejaculated all over Lestrade’s car.”

“...don’t interrupt me! And you better not do anything that nice for him.”

“I won’t. But Mycroft might.”

“I am going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“It’s already stored in your brain, such as it is. Now where are those trunks I bought you?”

“You bought me trunks? I have trunks.”

“Not appropriate ones.”

“Sherlock, these are a) miniscule and b) bright red. I do not think that I should wear these.”

“I definitely think you should wear those.”

“And what are you going to wear?”

“These.”

“Um. Well. Those. Well. Yes, wear those.”

“Don’t go getting distracted now.”

“How are we going to get him there?”

“Anthea said she’d help.”

“Anthea said she’d help.”

“That is what I just said, yes.”

“But.. Anthea? Unsmiling, text-obsessed Anthea?”

“Anthea.”

“What did you do, Sherlock?”

“Let’s just say it’s in her best interests.”

“You scare me.”

“I promise it’s entirely aboveboard.”

“Oh, now I feel better.”

**Saturday, July 18, 1:30 p.m.**

“Now, just jiggle that clasp…”

“Sherlock, something tells me that you didn’t actually rent this place.”

“Why bother. It belongs to someone who isn’t here and wouldn’t care.”

“Entirely aboveboard my eye.”

“Shhh, it’s ringing.”

“What’s ri...oh.”

“Hello, Lestrade, yes, look, John and I...yes… we are, in fact wearing clothes, look, d’you want the criminal mastermind or not? Good, that’s what I thought. John and I have him, he’s here, but … fine, Lestrade, just get here. Deveraux Manor. Yes, it’s in Suffolk. No, you can’t send Donovan. .. What? I don’t know, no. Oh, and bring swimming things. … Yes, I did indeed mean swimming things. Do you trust me or not? … Good.”

“Sherlock, d’you mean to tell me you only just called Lestrade?”

“Yes. But he’s in the north of London today, it’ll take him maybe a couple of hours to get here.”

“What are we going to do while we wai…oh.”

“John, you are rubbish at finishing your sentences today.”

“This is why I’m wearing these trunks, isn’t it?”

“Very clever, John.”

“Git”

**Saturday, July 18, 3:30 p.m.**

“Sherlock! John! Are you … bloody hell, not again!”

“GREG!”

“Ah, hello, Lestrade. We’re just about finished.”

“Oh, we’re finished.”

“John, I object. Strenuously.”

“You can object all you like, I’m not continuing with an audience.”

“I do not know how I can love you and have you be so faint at heart.”

“You love me because I put up with you. And because I can do this.”

“Uhfghwr.”

“Exactly. Now put your trunks back on. Sorry, Greg, you know what he’s like.”

“Unfortunately, I do. Now where is this mastermind, then?”

“He’s about to arrive. Just put these on.”

“These are swim trunks.”

“Oh, lovely. Can you tie your own shoes, too?”

“Sherlock, I swear to God…”  
“Clearly your extremely large penis has…”

“BOYS! Can you not?

“Oh, I’m interested in what Sherlock has to say about my very large penis.”  
“Save it for the criminal mastermind, Lestrade. See, John, he does have…”

“I get the picture.”

“With me, John.”

“Oi! Where are you two going?”  
“We’re backup.”   
“You’re going off to shag, I can tell.”   
“Lestrade, we are your backup here, and I would not mess about with your life.”

“Sherlock!”

“I would not deliberately endanger your life if I couldn’t un-endanger you.”

“More accurate, if no more reassuring.”

“What’s that sound?”  
“He’s here. Go, John.”

“We’ll cover you, Greg.”

“So I’m bait, is that it?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“You owe me, Sherlock.”  
“We’ll see.”

 

**Saturday, July 18, 3:39 p.m.**

“Sherlock.”

“Greg Lestrade, actually.”

“Oh, I remember you, Detective Inspector Lestrade. I mean only to say that this is Sherlock’s work.”

“You don’t quite look the part of a criminal mastermind. In those trunks, I mean. Not that they aren’t quite nice. The trunks.”

“Oh, that’s just Sherlock’s idea of a joke. But thank you.”

“He said I was bait.”

“Of course he did.”

“I am going to prohibit him from ever setting foot in my office again.”

“They’ve increased your repairs budget, have they?”

“Good point.”

“Look, Detective Inspector…”

“Greg, please.”

“Gregory?”

“All right.”

“There is one way you could make Sherlock very uncomfortable.”

“Go on.”

“He’s locked us in here because he feels that we will make each other profoundly uncomfortable. Should we seem to be, shall we say, compatible, his joke will have fallen flat.”

“And so I smile now? Laugh? Dive gaily into the pool?”

“Come closer.”

“That kind of compatible.”

“Can you imagine Sherlock wanting to watch me be compatible in this way?”

“No, Christ no!”

“Then I am going to kiss you now, Gregory. I hope it won’t be too unpleasant.”

“Mr. Holmes?”

“Mycroft, please.”

“Mike?”

“No.”

“Mycroft?”

“Yes?”

“It was definitely not unpleasant.”

“Shall I do it again? Sherlock is probably still watching.”  
“Who?”

 

**Saturday, July 18, 3:58 p.m.**

“Why are we still watching this, Sherlock?”

“It’s a master class in manipulation.”  
“Who? What? Sherlock ,isn’t he doing exactly what you wanted him to do?”

“No. Not at all. It’s brilliant--though if you tell him I said that I will replace all of your pants with red silk thongs--absolutely brilliant.”

“Sherlock, in about three minutes, by the way things are going, I will be able to see parts of your brother that I have never, and will never, want to see. Can we go?”

“Oh, very well. But you are a stick in the mud, John.”

“I can live with that if it means never seeing Mycroft’s cock. WHY DID I SAY THOSE WORDS?”

“Come, John. Let me take you home and put you to bed.”

“Your altruism is unrelenting.”

“Your sarcasm is improving.”

“Now, Sherlock. Leaving now.”

**Sunday, July 19, 11:41 a.m.**

“Sherlock. Your phone. Is beeping.”

“I know. It’s just Lestrade, forgiving us for the coconut oil incident.”

“You haven’t checked it yet.”

“I don’t need to.”

“You do if you want to see me in these trunks ever again.”

“Fussy. OH.”

“What?”  
“Look at this.”

“‘Dear Sherlock, the water was nice, thank you, Mycroft & Greg.’ What’s wrong with that?”

“He knew, John. He knew the moment he walked in. That pompous cake-loving arsehole, he’s rubbing my face in it. ‘Mycroft & Greg’ indeed.”

“You wanted him to get together with Lestrade.”  
“Well, I wouldn’t have had I known he wanted the same thing.”

“That’s bloody childish.”

“You’re on their side.”

“I’m on the side of true love.”

“That’s not true love, that’s a twisted police fetish gone wrong.”  
“Sherlock?”

“Yes?"

"Shall we go swimming today?"

**“Shut up.”**


End file.
